In This Game of Chess Who is the Queen?
by frenchcat
Summary: Under the pressure of being vanquished by a mere child, Voldemort aspired to create a witch who could match up to the power of the Chosen One. Fatin Ignacious would spend her life training to take down the Chosen One, being formed into the perfect death eater. But would Voldemort's most favored servant betray him, putting an unnoticeable, but devastating crack into his plan?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Bonjour everyone! Merci Beaucoup for reading! Seeing as this is my first update I am certain I will have to edit a few things but I hope to post a new chapter about once a week. Please let me know what you think!**

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Prelude

There is a house on 1313 Black Prince Rd in London. Although a Muggle walking by does not see it, and believes that it is not there because of its peculiarly creepy house number, it is there. Any non-Muggle who walks by would notice the house, even if they are used to magical abodes. For this house is a death eater's house. Dark, gloomy, and totally domineering the house had a gothic style with dead, leafless trees whose branches reached out as if to find an innocent soul to snare on their sharp ends. One could even hear the blood-curdling screams of innocent Muggles from the inside.

Roselda and Vellius Ignacious are the death-eaters that inhabit this gloomy home. Roselda was born of the pure-blood Grishelds and she is a vivacious, fiery woman with a sharp tongue and a mind to match it. She is a dirty blonde and although she is short, she makes up for it with strength of will and a beautiful figure. Vellius is the tall, dark, and handsome type with a hooked nose. He is a cold, calculating person who more often than not keeps his thoughts to himself and in this way gets under the very skin of anyone who dares to talk to him. A person is right when they suspect that his silence means he knows more about them than they want him to.

This couple met at one of those Muggle-Hater rallies for the privileged witches and wizards, and have ever since shared a common love of cruelty towards those lower life-forms. Things were going so well, especially for the Death Eaters close to Voldemort, they decided to have a baby so as to lengthen their pure-blood lineage to the next generation. Roselda and Vellius even discussed the great fortune that would come from their child eventually connecting their family to another great blood lineage. They had a wonderful time while Roselda was pregnant, planning to take care of their child in an almost-normal, happy but distinctively death-eater style. They often talked of road-trips when they were free from duties and sharing their love for magic with their child. She would live the life of a death-eater's daughter and live in wealth and grow up to be a fine witch at the Durmstrang School of the Dark Arts. These dreams continued until the night before their daughter was born.

The night was especially cold and dreary, with the wind howling as if it was mourning for lost souls and the tree branches were scraping against the windows. Roselda was in the living room, flicking her wand listlessly at the baby bottles and clothes that were forming themselves out of thin air while sitting on the couch and eyeing the small baby crib (which was cute but somewhat creepy, with a combination of little dark marks and wands hovering above it). It would soon hold her beloved baby girl. The living room had a dark aura, like all the rooms in the house. The walls were painted a red so dark it appeared almost black to the eye, and the chairs were a deep-set red like blood, the floor a cold, uncomfortable stone. It was unnaturally cold all over the house, as this is how Roselda and Vellius preferred it. One could say the only place of warmth was the fireplace, but usually evil came from in and out of it. Walking into the room, Vellius paused for a second to watch his usually fierce wife staring affectionately at his soon-to-be baby girl's crib. He had recently wondered what it would mean to have such a thing that meant so much to the both of them, especially with their choice of careers. Would their choices lead to their daughter's pain and suffering, or will she in turn cause them pain and suffering by rejecting their lifestyle? They already cared too much, but there was no helping this predicament. It was best to keep his thoughts to himself.

Joining his wife on the couch, Vellius told her that, "Our daughter will surely be the cutest little death-eater on the block!"

Laughing, Roselda replied that, "Our daughter will be the ONLY little death-eater on the block, but you're absolutely right that she will be cute. I sure hope she likes our home."

"Of course she will. I mean, she is OUR child."

The couple took a moment to smile and reflect blissfully on the meaning of this statement. However, they were distracted from their thoughts as the fire in their fireplace turned green suddenly, meaning someone was arriving. Someone they hadn't invited.

"Go to the bedroom, Roselda!" Vellius said softly but forcefully, grabbing his wand at the same time and standing up to meet this unworthy visitor.

"But, Vellius-"Roselda cried stubbornly, for she was not about to leave like a coward.

"GO, ROSELDA!" Vellius roared. As Roselda's expression turned indignant, he pleaded with her, "please, think of the baby." Roselda started to storm off.

"Now, now, please stay here, Roselda. I need the both of you, and your baby," a voice as cold as ice and as silky as a snake's hiss came from the strange man who had suddenly appeared out of the fire. He was an eerily white color with no nose but a couple of slits for nostrils that flared with agitation. With eyes that were red that appeared through the small slits between his eyelids he had a deformed, snake-like appearance.

"My…..my Lord," Vellius said softly, returning his wand to his black coat-pocket and kneeling before the strange man while his wife returned to stand by his side, not being able to kneel herself she bowed her head in reverence.

The stranger said, "My friends…I have come today to ask a favor of you. Sit, and hear what I have to say."

So the couple took a seat, Roselda looking worried and upset with her hands folded on her pregnant belly twitching every few seconds. Vellius kept a cool, brooding face even though he, too, was wondering why the Dark Lord would appear so late at night at their house to ask for a favor. Especially since he knew very well that their baby would be born not too late the next day.

The Dark Lord began without any need of a sign that they were ready, although he noted with confidence Vellius' composure, "You must be wondering, of course, why I have arrived, tonight of all nights, upon your good hospitality."

"You are always welcome here, my Lord," Roselda interjected.

"Yes, well, you two are a couple of my best followers, and I must entrust in you a grave secret that I have just myself learned of recently, for it may well change all of our futures." Voldemort said, pausing to gather his thoughts. He seemed somewhat agitated, although Lord Voldemort hardly ever allows anyone to see agitation unless he is torturing them for their wrongdoing. This really worried Vellius.

"I have just received notice of a prophesy. A prophesy that a mere baby boy named Harry Potter will eventually bring the fall of myself, in short. Now, I have not located the boy's family yet, but I intend to not rest until I find them, and destroy them. This will be the only way for me to continue my reign as Lord Voldemort and fully put a stop to all the rebellion against my rule. I cannot have whispers of faith and hope roaming about within the magical community. I will not allow it." Voldemort stopped talking. He's probably fuming on the inside that he must deal with a mere baby, Vellius thought.

"My Lord, you have not yet told us what your favor is?" Roselda said quietly, questioningly.

"Patience, my dear Roselda, I was getting there. That was always one virtue you have lacked in my presence… but for tonight, I shall overlook it." There was a danger in Voldemort's voice as he said that, narrowing his eyes. "Now, it is not likely but if in fact I find the boy, and somehow I am destroyed, I will eventually return. This, you must believe. However, I may be weak when I come back, and it may be a long time until I do. And during this time, the baby boy will be growing stronger and stronger and will be learning of the prophesy, all under the watchful eye of that oaf, Dumbledore, at Hogwarts. Your baby will be the same age as the baby boy. This is _quite_ a useful coincidence."

Suddenly it dawned upon Vellius what the Lord could be asking of them.

"My Lord, could you mean…?" Roselda trailed off thoughtlessly in her shock.

"Yes, I would like for your daughter to become close to the Potter boy if he somehow happens to make it to Hogwarts. Now, this is very unlikely but I am not willing to take any chances. You will train your daughter for this assignment, for she may be the key to bringing down the Potter boy. There will be no coddling this child. You must teach her to be ruthless in every form of the word, and cunning enough to catch the boy's attention and keep up a façade long enough for me to return. Do you understand the implications if you fail to do this?" Voldemort asked, with a fire in his eyes that meant any answer but yes to his question may lead to Roselda and Vellius' deaths.

This time, Vellius spoke, "My Lord….of course we would be honored to do your bidding, even if it means giving up our daughter's life, you know that."

Nodding in agreement, Voldemort said, "Yes, good Vellius, I am glad to hear that. I will send you and your wife some specific instructions on the upbringing of your child. From today on, you must forget any silly notion of acting as doting parents. Every point must be followed to a T, and I will have someone come to check on you every now and then to see if you are on track. If you aren't, they are to step in and take over for you, and I can promise that your dear daughter's life will be far worse that way."

"Yes, my Lord," Vellius said quietly while it appeared his wife had shut down, silently staring at those dark walls.

"Very good Vellius, I will remember your loyalty once I have conquered the Potter boy. Someone will arrive tomorrow with the instructions. He will also be the one to check on you from time to time, as he is my most worthy follower who also happens to have instructions to get close to Dumbledore at Hogwarts if things go awry. He will look after your daughter while she is there." And with that, Voldemort threw some floo powder in the fire, stepped into the green flames, and gave both Roselda and Vellius one last long, piercing stare as he vanished.

The next day, a hooded figure appeared at the door of the Ignacious' home carrying a single piece of parchment. When Roselda and Vellius went to greet him, he removed his hood to reveal long, greasy black hair framing a pale, sullen face that had black eyes that seemed to swallow a person with their very depth. He said nothing his first visit to their house, except that his name was Severus Snape and that the instructions he carried must be followed at all costs.

**_The Instructions to Be Carried Out By Vellius and Roselda Ignacious On The Upbringing Of Their Newborn Daughter_**

-_The child's name shall be Fatin, of the Arabic meaning to be captivating and seductive, and she shall be raised to be just so._

-_You will never speak of such things as love, or affection, in her presence._

-_You will not coddle her, or show her any attention besides that which is necessary to keep her alive. Be cold and unwavering no matter how hard the infant strives for your love._

-_The child will learn to call you Madame and Sir, as a way to stave off any bond that should grow between you._

-_Any sort of compassion or humanity that Fatin shows will be corrected and she will be punished by not receiving three meals. _

-_She is never to have contact with the outside world, besides your appointed advisor and supervisor, Severus Snape._

-_Every day, you will spend some time to train her in the ways of the Dark Arts, deception, killing, pain, and suffering as well as the usual wizarding abilities taught to children._

-_When she turns six years old, you will leave Fatin alone at home for a week out of every month at which time you will release a monster that I myself have assigned for each week. Severus Snape will leave an owl for you at that time, so tell her that she is allowed but one hour in which Snape will come over and be with her during these times. Never look back, never write, and never leave any sign around the house in which to comfort her when you leave._

-_At the age of nine years old, Fatin will receive a letter from the D.E.A.T.H. camp, one which you will promptly respond to and someone will be at your home to pick her up in due time. She will not return until the next winter._

-_After D.E.A.T.H. camp you are to leave Fatin completely alone. You may speak with her, but only when it is absolutely necessary._

-_Once Fatin ships off to Hogwarts, you are free from all obligations on this list except for the next two mentioned below._

-_Never tell Fatin of this deal, the instruction sheet, or of the prophesy. All that she must know is that the Dark Lord is her master and she must loyally obey his will that she get close to the Potter boy._

-_If Fatin ever goes against the ways of the Death Eaters or leaks the reason she is at Hogwarts, you are to kill her. No exceptions._

**_If any of these instructions are not followed, you have been warned that Severus will take over charge of your daughter and you shall be dealt with properly when I return._**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 1

She was running down that long hallway with only one thing on her mind. _Where was Heather? She was her usual dumb, cheerful self last night. If that even was last night. What time of the day was it? Forget that, it was finally the day for the other students and I to prove ourselves._ The students had been told from the very beginning of this final task. Fatin was so excited to just be out of that place that it didn't much matter to her what she had to do, but she couldn't help wondering why Heather was missing. She snapped out of her reflections when something caught her ankle and pulled hard. Tumbling to the ground she saw a glimpse of the hundreds of plant tendrils slithering towards her. _Bloody hell_, she thought as she crashed onto the hard stone floor.

She reached down and ripped a tendril from her ankle, getting up just in time to avoid a couple more as she lifted her wand and yelled, "Reducto!" The plants exploded at several points and then slowly retreated into the shadows to wait for their next victim. She began to run again towards the green light at the end of the tunnel. It seemed much farther than usual and the cold air made it that much more difficult to breath.

Fatin was just wondering where the other students were when she heard a commotion behind her and then a person scream, "RELASHIO!" She didn't turn around to look, but kept on running. That voice undoubtedly belonged to Draco Malfoy, but it didn't much matter to Fatin if he got ensnared by the green tendrils. At least Fatin knew that this was the set time for the final task. She wasn't the only one missing her parental figure, either, since she could only hear one pair of feet beating against the floor behind her. Fatin's breathing was getting very shallow and pained by now so she slowed down about ten yards away from the door to a slow walk.

_I have to get myself under control. This is my final test at D.E.A.T.H. I bet that Heather is just meeting me there instead of at the cell. Besides, it's not like I even care for Heather anyways, she's just the stupid woman appointed to be my 'mother figure'._ Fatin thought this vehemently, getting closer and closer to that bright green light, but deep down she knew that she had become attached to the useless woman. Heather practiced such acts as "love" and "kindness", weaknesses that Fatin could not afford. The Dark Lord was the only one that could lead her to a power so great that wouldn't ever have to be afraid again.

With this in mind, Fatin steeled herself against any feelings of doubt that she had about the task she had to face and walked into the bright green light. Squinting, Fatin waited for her eyes to adjust and held her wand securely in front of herself. As Fatin's vision slowly came back she glanced around the room slowly, noticing the line of her fellow students sitting across from their parental figures. Fatin turned her head slowly, taking noted that Dolohov, their Professor, was standing at the back of the room behind the 'parents' with his arms crossed. As her eyes reached his face, she felt a flicker of fear pass through her. Dolohov never smiled unless someone was about to undergo a great amount of suffering.

"You're late, Fatin, and I'm afraid you've already missed half of the party by now. But I'm sure Heather can catch you up on the festivities. Take your seat." Dolohov seemed to say this with extra relish, no doubt because Fatin was the best student at D.E.A.T.H. and he hadn't yet been able to punish her as thoroughly as the others.

"Yes, Professor," Fatin replied and turned back to take a closer look at the line of parental figures in order to find Heather. What she saw deeply disturbed Fatin, and her stomach churned at the thought that Heather was somewhere in that group.

All of the parents had their hands and feet chained together, bruises covering those areas as well as others. Some even had cuts on them and their clothes were torn as if they had been dragged there through the hallway unwillingly. The worst part, however, was their eyes. They were no longer a human's eyes, but looked as if their soul had been taken by a dementor's kiss. The tears had stopped streaming from them, but Fatin could see the trails left behind on their dirty faces.

Heather was the third to last person in the row, Fatin recognized her by the usually brilliant red hair that was now frazzled and layered with dirt. Fatin went to take her place in front of her, staring a couple of inches above her head resolutely so that she did not have to see what Heather looked like.

"How nice of you to join us, Draco, take your seat and remember to meet me after in the hallway. You are the last to arrive." As Dolohov finished speaking, Fatin turned her head just in time to see Draco's pale face contort with horror when he saw the scene before him. He couldn't even muster a reply as he went to sit in front of Edgar, his father figure. It appeared that it was all he could manage to keep from whimpering like a wounded animal. _He would do right to remember where he was_, Fatin thought, unyielding to her inclination to sympathize with the boy. As they were all there to be ruthless death eaters any sign of compassion would ruin them. Even though everyone else there appeared mildly well, it was profoundly obvious that all of them had become attached in some way or another to their parental figures.

Dolohov started to pace the room, taking his time to pause at each student and examine their reactions. _They're so weak and nubile_. Dolohov thought, relishing the very idea of crushing their little hearts into thousands of pieces when he told them what, exactly, was their final test. _Death Eaters, they called themselves. The Lord's Servants, they wanted to be. How ridiculous._

_All of them are useless. Those children willingly fell right into the trap that the Lord had planned for them since the beginning. The only one who seems unfazed is Fatin but even she won't look at her mother figure! Such a disappointment._ It was now clear to Dolohov that she, too, had grown soft. He would happily solve that problem for her, for all of them, so that they too would be ready to join the fight when the Dark Lord returned. _Their final lesson begins now._


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thanks for following! This is a rather long chapter but I hope you like it!**

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"Stand up and ready your wands," Dolohov said, removing the parent's chains. Fatin didn't understand what was going on, and she stood up uneasily, unsure of why she would need her wand to talk to Heather. She watched as Dolohov passed out sixteen wands to the parental figures, and then moved to a position only a few yards away from her, a couple of feet away from the first student and parent pair. He was standing right in between them so as to be able to see every person in the room. By now we were all standing with our wands in front of us, and more than a few students' hands were shaking. But the parents seemed eerily calm towards all of this. They seemed almost resigned to whatever was happening.

"We are now going to have ourselves a little duel, students." _Is this….the final task?_ Fatin thought slowly, turning to look at Heather for the first time. A dull, aching pain shot through Fatin as she saw the same emptiness in Heather's usually kind, blue-gray eyes that she had seen in the others. But Fatin didn't have time to worry about Heather because Dolohov had continued to talk, his smile getting just a little wider with each word he said.

"The rules are that either you, or your parental figure must die in the next two minutes after I say to begin, or your lovely Professor Lestrange will make sure that neither of you will leave here alive."

It seemed to take a minute for Fatin's brain to fully comprehend what Dolohov had just said. She turned her head to see Bellatrix Lestrange with her twisting long black hair, eyes sparkling as she stepped out from the shadows. _How had I not noticed her?_ Fatin thought nervously when it suddenly occurred to Fatin, staring into Bellatrix's dark, dancing eyes, why this was all happening.

_How stupid I had been to not realize that Heather was also meant to be my training tool. Why would the D.E.A.T.H. camp ever give the students someone to watch over them and show them affection, when they were being trained to be coldblooded murderers? _ She felt foolish and naïve, but worst of all Fatin felt entirely too vulnerable. Despite all of her efforts to hide her true feelings in this place, the Professors knew that she had gained a costly affection for her parental figure.

And then Fatin's mind traveled back to Heather and the other parents. The soulless looks in their eyes from the very beginning, and their lack of reaction to the situation meant that this was no shock to them. _They must have been told beforehand of this duel. They must-no, they have to expect us to kill them to save our lives. For each student had been trained to kill without thought, without mercy. But could Heather really believe that? It certainly seemed as if she did, but why? _

As Fatin reached conclusions that only led to more questions, she also took note that there was only one door out of the room, and no windows. Even if she managed to get herself and Heather past Bellatrix, which was nearly impossible since she only had an assigned Simulation Wand, she would have to deal with getting out of D.E.A.T.H. camp itself. D.E.A.T.H. camp was held underground in an immense labyrinth of hallways that was filled with monsters, locked doors, ruthless Professors, and dead ends.

"The Dark Lord always shows concern for the proper usage of wizarding rituals, of course. You shall all now bow cordially and then turn around and walk three steps to take your dueling position as you have in previous trials." Bellatrix told the students, her face lighting up with adoration when she acknowledged the Dark Lord.

Bowing, Fatin kept her eyes on Heather who didn't show any sign that what was going on was reaching her, as if she no longer cared what happened. She wouldn't make eye contact with Fatin, so there was no way to communicate to Heather that Fatin was not the cold-blooded murderer she thought she was. At least, not when it came to Heather. The entire room was completely silent as the students all raised slowly from their deep bows, and Fatin knew that everyone else was going through the same thing she was, especially when a couple of them started to sob. However, Fatin could only faintly tell that Draco Malfoy was crying even though he was standing right next to her. It seemed as if Fatin's mind had created a barrier in which all she could see, all she could think about was Heather.

Her heart beating faster now, nervous beads of sweat forming on her temple, Fatin turned and began those short three steps to the dueling position. One…._Perhaps I could just try to reason with Dolohov, ask that maybe I could kill every other person in this room but Heather._ Two…._He wouldn't go for it._ Three…_If only Heather would just look me in the eye, she could toss me her wand somehow before time was up. _ Fatin thought wildly but as soon as she turned around, took her position, and saw Heather take hers, she knew that there was no hope. Surely both of them would die there in that cold, dark hole in the ground.

Fatin heard Dolohov say to, "Begi-"

"Avada Kedavra!" yelled all of the 'parents' in unison, and Fatin saw that bright green light leave the end of Heather's wand. Her life flashed before her eyes in that instant, bits and pieces of memory floating to the surface.

She was four years old, sitting with her mother in the Lessons Room at their house, and she had just listened to her mother tell the story of the Dark Lord's rise to power. The thought of hundreds of people dying had shaken her young self, and Fatin was sobbing quietly.

"Fatin," said her mother with a stern tone, shaking her head.

"Yes, Madame?" Fatin whispered, sniffling.

Her mother folded her arms across her chest and seemed disappointed as she explained it to Fatin. "You mustn't cry, Fatin, for these people that have died are not worth your tears. They are merely Muggles, a crude form of the human race that will only weigh us down if they continue to live. They are the reason that we have to hide. If only they were gone, the wizarding community would be free to rule. This is your destiny, Fatin, you must live in the Dark Lord's ideals, and be ruthless to those who are not in compliance with his ways. This includes the witches and wizards who have betrayed their kind, do you understand, Fatin?"

The scene faded away slowly, Fatin's younger self attempting as best as she could to understand and please her mother. Then, Fatin watched as her four year old self grew to be six years old. She never left the house, for she was not allowed to. Spells were placed around the house so that if Fatin touched even a wall with the intention of getting out she would be propelled backwards. Fatin spent most of her time alone, reading whatever she could find in the house-which was usually books about the Dark Arts and the Dark Lord's rise to power. Besides that she spent a few hours a day trained and lectured in dim light and cold temperatures.

Fatin saw herself huddled in a corner, crying because her parents had just left and the house was pitch black. This was caused by the curse they had left behind. Usually, when Fatin was scared of the monsters, she merely had to explicitly think of a way for them to die and wish for it to happen. Then it would enact itself and they would disappear. However, that time was the first time the monster had transformed into a woman who looked like her mother when she had wished it was dead. The monster had started to scream and thrash about on the floor as if Fatin had put the Cruciatus curse on her.

Shocked by this sight, Fatin had thought that she wished the woman wouldn't die. That's when it turned back into the terrifying black beast that it had been before and clawed at her, creating a long gash on her upper right arm and a small, very deep gash on her right leg. Then, the beast disappeared and the house became pitch black. That's when Fatin had let out the owl to get Snape and had curled up in the corner. She was shaking with fear. Fatin had always really hated the dark, as it brought to her imagination all of the cruel things she had heard about and seen. Snape slowly walked into the room after what seemed like ages to Fatin and sat in front of her, holding some butterbeer.

"Fatin," he said slowly, with a look in his eyes almost as if he pitied Fatin. He pointed his wand at each of her wounds as he talked but never broke eye contact with her. Fatin's wounds began to disappear, only leaving a couple of unnoticeable scars. They could not be removed since they were part of the curse- a reminder of what would happen if one let themself be weak.

"You must try to control your fear, and if you cannot never show it to anyone, or anything else. If it is absolutely necessary, you can always call for me if you are in dire need of help and I will be there. But it is best if you take care of whatever it is that is troubling you by yourself, for you must not have to depend on others. You will find that even I will not always be there for you." Then he passed Fatin her butterbeer and she sipped it slowly while she listened in amazement to the stories he told her of Hogwarts and its bright lights and moving staircases…The image of Snape's face dimmed in Fatin's memory only to be replaced by another man.

"Fatin, your letter from the D.E.A.T.H. camp has arrived," said her father, who had just removed a parcel from a particularly gnarly owl's leg. Fatin's nine-year-old self didn't look up, but continued to read about the different methods to torture a Muggle. She had already heard about the death camp and was scared about leaving her house for the first time. She had read in some books about the witches and wizards who ended up in St. Mungo's mental ward for some time after attending D.E.A.T.H camp. Despite this, she wouldn't let on that it even piqued her interest.

Fatin's father glanced over the letter quickly. "It says here that it begins in a couple of months, so you must be completely prepared by then. You must excel at anything and everything they ask you to do, and never hesitate when they ask you to do it. They say here that if you do indeed pass the course, you are immediately accepted into the Dark Lord's ranks after you get out of wizarding school. However, the children of the cruelest wizarding families fail to get through even half the course. If you also fail this course, then you might as well die there for you will have no future inside this house. We do not accept weaklings that are not fit to be a part of the Dark Lord's army." Fatin's nine-year-old self nodded emotionlessly in acknowledgement of her father's demands as the scene changed once again.

The next memories that Fatin saw were those of her time at D.E.A.T.H. camp. The beginning when she thought it was easy, just going over knowledge about the Dark Arts that she had already learned at home. Then Fatin saw when she got the Simulation Wand and had to start learning how to use the spells she already knew about and when they started to bring in spiders and mice, progressing to owls and cats to practice upon. They mostly used the three Unforgivable Curses-Imperio, Crucio, and Avada Kedavra.

Dueling between the students had been enforced each day, with the killing curse used as the winning spell. The loser didn't die, of course, but was assigned to the torture chamber for one hour. Fatin didn't know what happened during that hour because she never allowed herself to lose a duel. However, Fatin noticed that the students always came out of the room with tear-stained faces, quietly shaking all over. Lots of students had left because of this, who were included in the twenty-two that had either left or been kicked out before the day of the final test. Heather had been there since the beginning.

Fatin saw the first time they met in her room about three weeks after she had arrived at D.E.A.T.H. camp. Fatin's room was really a cell, meant for people who were being tortured in the secret underground area but it also had a paltry bed and set of drawers which had been conjured in it for the D.E.A.T.H. camp.

Fatin walked into the room after a rather trying day having to defeat a fellow student that was begging her to not send him to the Torture Room during a duel. When she saw Heather her eyes narrowed suspiciously and she whipped out her wand in case Heather was another test of her abilities.

"Who are you?" Fatin asked.

The strange woman had held up her hands, saying, "My name is Heather. Your Professors have sent me here to make you dinner and watch over you." She smiled widely at Fatin, to which Fatin didn't respond.

"I don't need you. Leave." Fatin lowered her wand, but she didn't relax her stance. Instead she folded her arms across her chest and scowling at the unwanted visitor.

"I...can't, really," Heather said, anxiously glancing at the door as if she expected someone to be standing there, listening; and then she looked back at Fatin, adding cheerfully, "but I hope that we can get along well."

"Just stay out of my way, Heather," Fatin said, spitting out Heather's name vehemently. Fatin didn't need to have any distractions in D.E.A.T.H. camp, and she thought that Heather smiled because the Professors were trying to soften Fatin mentally with her kindness.

Despite Fatin's cold behavior, Heather stayed in that room and continued to warmly smile at her even though Fatin repelled Heather whenever she got the chance. After three or four months Fatin got used to Heather being there, and was even forced into telling Heather a little about her home life. Heather was shocked at the way that Fatin had been brought up, and fumed, saying,

"It's not right for a child to be brought up in the dark, without any care or comfort from her parents! You should have been loved like every other child, not forced to learn the ways of a cold-blooded murderer!"

"No," Fatin explained as if Heather was the child in the situation, "I am better off knowing the realities of life than to be weak and vulnerable because of someone's 'love'. I can only rely on myself for protection, because people may be nice to have around at first, but they always have the power to leave and they will use it. Then you must fend for yourself or die. My parents taught me this through their absences in my life, and for that I am truly grateful to them. It would be far worse if they had let me into this world vulnerable and open for anyone or anything to harm me. And that is why they are in the Dark Lord's army and are training me to also be in it, because he is raising up his followers to be stronger, immune to those that would rather destroy us and our ways, like Muggles. "

When Fatin was finished speaking Heather just looked at her with a sad expression, which Fatin thought was because Heather pitied her dark outlook on life. But Heather didn't say anything and just listened as Fatin excitedly detailed what she would do when she was one of the Dark Lord's top supporters and could control her own life instead of having to hide from those filthy Muggles. Fatin even told Heather that she hoped Snape would be able to come and visit her after the Dark Lord rises again to power and bring butterbeer like he did when Fatin called him during the weeks she was left alone. From then on Heather had butterbeer waiting for Fatin every night and listened to whatever Fatin had to say. Before Fatin knew it she had come to care for Heather despite all of her efforts not to. Heather really was the mother Fatin never had back then and Fatin could see that she had been grasping childishly at something that should never have been.

The flashback ended, and Fatin saw the green light that came from Heather's wand in slow motion, heading straight towards her heart. It was an inch away from Fatin's chest when, all of a sudden, it vanished. Fatin automatically looked up at Heather, who was now yelling furiously at her. However, Fatin couldn't register in her brain what had just happened, and she only heard bits and pieces of what Heather was saying. Fatin's brain seemed to move sluggishly as she tried to wrap her mind around the fact that Heather had just intended to kill her.

"…stupid….useless….if…killed you….brat….no one….like you…" The bits and pieces weren't making any sense either to Fatin; they weren't anything that Heather would usually say to her. _She….didn't even hesitate when he said to begin. _Fatin thought, too shocked to fully comprehend the implications of Heather's actions. "…bloody…hate you…want….you….die-"

The yelling stopped all of a sudden and Fatin looked around for the first time to see what had happened. She saw that Dolohov had silenced the 'parents' using his wand since their mouths still moved for a couple of seconds before the owners seemed to realize what was happening. Fatin looked to her left and right and saw Bellatrix ruthlessly kicking the students who had passed out. While they were getting back up, it seemed as if none of the other students were dealing well with what had happened. Fatin stared at Heather, disbelief filling every pore of her body while she was forced to come to the conclusion of what it all truly meant. Heather had been lying to her all along, that was the only logical conclusion Fatin could make. It seemed as if Heather never really cared for Fatin and all of those smiles that had seemed so warm and comforting before now seemed fake and cruel to her.

"Your final task, students," Dolohov began once again.

Fatin whipped her head around to stare at him in shock. _There's still a final task? After all of this? What could they possibly ask of us that wouldn't be easy to do now? _Fatin thought angrily. Heather had stopped yelling by the looks of it and she looked resigned, no longer angry that her wand had turned out to be a fake. _Had she been angry?_ Fatin hadn't looked at Heather, but had supposed she was since she had been yelling at the time. Fatin turned her head back quickly to hear the rest of Dolohov's sentence.

"…kill your assigned parental figure."

At this, Draco's father figure broke rank and ran for the door. Somewhere in the back of Fatin's subconscious she thought with some dark humor that they actually made a good pair, him and Draco.

"Crucio!" bellowed Bellatrix, giggling with delight when the large man fell to the floor screaming, his body seeming to contort with the pain. He writhed there for a couple of minutes while all of us just stared at him with blank faces, except for Draco whose face was stricken with horror.

"I think that's plenty, Bellatrix, crucia," said Dolohov, ending the man's suffering. Draco's 'father' just laid there, breathing hard, and didn't even make an attempt to change his current position on the floor. "Well, Draco, it seems as if your 'father' is ready to be done with this. So you will go first. Kill him."

The whole room watched with baited breath, but the most anxious to see what Draco did were the students, who were all internally fighting their own battles of what to do and trying to figure out why what had happened had.

Fatin had always disliked Draco, since he was often slimy and underhanded when it came to dueling; he used whatever means to try to trick Fatin into losing. He almost got her once, too, when he started to scream and thrash about as if he was in great agony and Fatin stopped firing spells at him to wait for him to get back up when he whipped out his wand and narrowly missed her with the killing spell. He was one of the ones who ended up crying and begging Fatin to spare them their turn in the Torture Room. Draco always talked big but he couldn't back it up. Just like his father, Lucius Malfoy, who also paraded himself around but wasn't ready to give his life for the Dark Lord. It could be certain that the only reason that Draco hadn't been kicked out for his weaknesses thus far was due to his father's influence and wealth.

It seemed as if Draco was actually going to prove himself when he raised his wand to point it at the man who had just tried to escape from his fate. But then Draco's wand began to shake and soon after fell to the floor with an ominous clatter as he dissolved into tears. He had failed the final test.

"Shame," said Bellatrix, who then grabbed Draco roughly by his upper arm, digging her nails into his skin. "_Levicorpus," she whispered, and Draco's 'father' rose into the air by his ankle, and all three of them went through the only door into the hallway, and the door slammed shut behind them. After a couple of seconds Fatin saw a flash of green through the crack between the bottom of the door and the floor. Then Bellatrix walked in, alone. Now the students, including Fatin, were wondering who, exactly, that green flash had been for. _

_"Fatin," Dolohov said, "since you are our best student, it is your turn. Decide wisely."_

_Fatin nodded towards Dolohov, and pointed her wand straight at Heather's heart. While watching Draco, she had thought the matter through. She had to kill Heather, because that was the only way to pass the test and get herself that much closer to the future that would keep her from ever being betrayed like that again. And if Fatin didn't kill Heather, she wouldn't have any future to go home to at all. Her father had made that very clear. Heather hadn't hesitated to kill me, so why should I? It's already painfully clear that our whole relationship was a fake, so killing her should be just like killing a spider. They both mean nothing to me and are just a waste of space that need to be removed. That was what Fatin thought, but she could tell that somewhere inside she still cared for Heather, despite everything. _

_ Fatin kept her hand steadily pointed at Heather's heart and looked in her eyes for something, anything to help her decide what to do. What Fatin saw there didn't make any sense. Heather's eyes no longer looked soulless and empty; they no longer avoided Fatin's eyes. Instead, they seemed to look right through Fatin's eyes and into her soul. Heather's eyes were calm as she continued to stare right at Fatin, almost as if she was just waiting for Fatin to end it all. _

"Avada…Kedavra" Fatin choked out, for she had started to cry. The awful green light left her wand and traveled towards Heather. Before it vanished at Heather's chest, Bellatrix also said, "Avada Kedavra," since Fatin's simulation wand couldn't do it, Fatin realized as she watched Heather's lifeless form crumple to the ground. After that everything went black for Fatin and her body joined Heather's on the cold stone floor, the third to fall of many that night.


	4. Chapter 4-Draco Malfoy Comes to Play

**A/N: Sorry this this update took longer than usual. I had finals that I was dealing with but they're all done now! C'est pff! Hope you enjoy this chapter! It's not as action-packed as others but ah well, c'est la vie, we shall let little Fatin have a rest. Muchas grac****í****as for the reviews!**

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Fatin woke up in her emerald-colored bedroom. Everything was as it should be, her Dark Arts books were in the spiraling black bookcase across from the end of her bed and the dark armoire that held all of Fatin's clothes was laying out her clothes for the day. Another plain black dress to wear; on special occasions, like her birthday, it would pick out an elegant green one. Fatin had a closet whose emerald green door blended with the emerald and black diamond wallpaper, but she didn't really have anything to put in it. The only thing that had changed in the room was Fatin. She stared blankly at the walls, unable to think or care about anything.

Never-the-less, Fatin got out of bed, pulled on her dress, and stepped into her black slippers. She numbly thought about getting some breakfast as her stomach rumbled. _ I must've been out for a while,_ Fatin thought, her forehead creasing. She opened the door to her room and walked down the hallway to the kitchen. When she opened the door to the kitchen she saw her parents sitting at the ornate dining table that had never been used before.

Fatin dully stared at them and thought that this was a rare sight, both of them at the house and not rushing around doing other work things. It seemed as if she was the topic of their conversation, because both of their heads turned towards her when she walked in. They were even sitting, hands folded in front of them, across from each other. They left one chair in between them.

"Fatin, please take a seat," her father said, his eyes seemingly aged with dark circles under them. Fatin's mother also looked tired and her eyes were red around the edges. But at that point Fatin didn't have the energy to care.

She took the seat in between them, but folded her arms across her chest and pointedly stared at the table. Roselda started to reach for her hand, but she pulled back before she was halfway there.

"Fatin," she said, "Your father and I are…are…"

"So proud of you." Vellius said, finishing her sentence for her.

"Yes," Fatin's mother said, giving a grateful nod to her father. "We are so proud that you passed D.E.A.T.H. camp. And we were wondering…" She trailed off again, staring at Fatin with a worried look on her face.

"We were wondering what happened while you were at Death Camp," Vellius intervened again.

Fatin looked up at them, for the first time meeting their eyes. They both looked really worried at that moment. Fatin was rendered speechless at that moment, shocked that they didn't know what had happened. This didn't faze her for long, however, and her eyes narrowed at sight of her parents' anxious eyes. They had been the ones to send her to D.E.A.T.H. camp in the first place.

"Well, whatever happened, you passed. Your Professors were also quite impressed with you; they told us so when they delivered you here a couple of days ago. They said you were one of two students to pass the final test. The other person was some boy named Theodore Nott. "

Fatin was out for a couple of days. That didn't surprise her, given how little she had slept the past few days at camp. Fatin couldn't care less how the Professors thought she did. The only thing that mattered was that she was done and guaranteed a place in the Dark Lord's army.

"I've done enough, haven't I, so that I just have to make it through Durmstrang to be in the Dark Lord's army?" Fatin asked slowly, disbelief riddling at her soul when her father spoke next.

"Actually, Fatin…That's what we need to talk about. There is one thing that you have to do for the Dark Lord."

"What?" Fatin said quietly, her words passing through her lips like a snake's hiss. She had thought that she was done with surprises.

"You know of the Potter boy, right? The Dark Lord has asked that you get close to him, just so that if the Dark Lord needs information on him, you could provide it. And, if the time comes, you could also lead Potter to the Dark Lord." Vellius had a wary look on his face as he said this, but his tone was serious.

For a second Fatin thought of Heather and how she had been completely nice at first, but had then turned at the first sign of danger. Fatin didn't want or need to use such an underhanded method.

"I don't want to do that. I could just as easily kill him myself." Fatin calmly stared into her parents' eyes, trying not to show how this task reminded her of the incident that had occurred only two days before.

My father frowned slightly at this, saying "You have to, Fatin. This was a direct order from the Dark Lord himself and you know very well what happens to the people that don't follow his orders."

"This means that you will be attending Hogwarts instead of Durmstrang," Fatin's mother added. "Severus has agreed to watch over you during that time, to make sure that nothing happens while you are there."

_What could possibly happen that hadn't already?_ Fatin thought. She supposed that it didn't matter anymore where she went. She was no longer attached to anything in that world. She had to keep in mind everything she'd already done so far to become one of the Dark Lord's servants. That was her only purpose in life, the only place where she would belong.

"I understand, is that all?" Fatin said. For a second she wondered whether or not they could think of something else that could surprise her.

"Yes, that is all." Vellius said while Fatin got up from her chair. "Oh, and from now you may do as you please until school begins."

So Fatin just had to wait until she could leave for Hogwarts. But until then, she was wary of the way that her parents were acting. After Heather's betrayal, Fatin would be careful not to let anyone get too close to her.

Roselda walked into her bedroom and closed the door. "I'm worried about her, Vellius."

Her husband looked up from the Daily Prophet he had been reading and looked at her. "I understand, Roselda, and I am also worried but it is beyond our ability to help her."

"But she's been walking around this house as if a dementor has sucked out her soul for six months, Vellius. She barely acknowledges Severus' presence when he comes over, and he too is perplexed by her lack of…well…life. " She said all of this, starting to tear up.

Vellius put down his paper and grasped her hand, pulling her to sit down beside him on the couch. "I know…but don't cry, Roselda. It's hard enough to watch Fatin like this without being able to do anything. " He cradled her with his chin resting on her head, stroking her beautiful blonde hair and wondering how their simple life had gone so wrong. She sniffled quietly and wiped at her eyes. When she looked back into Vellius' eyes, however, she was glaring.

"It's not fair, Vellius. We were true followers of the Dark Lord, weren't we?" He nodded slowly, trying to understand where this was leading. "Then why did he do this to us? He doesn't care if our whole family is torn apart just for his purposes…"

Vellius just stared at her in shock, because he realized that he had been thinking the same thing for the past six months. "I…don't know. But Roselda we only have four months left before we can finally be free of the deal. We've already broken a few rules by taking the shield spell from around the house."

"But that doesn't matter! You see it, don't you, Vellius? How she looks right through us? She might not have 'liked' us before, but now…now, she ignores our very existence. When I touched her hand-"

"Roselda! You know that's not allowed!" Vellius said angrily. "What if Severus found out, and took her away?"

Roselda stood up from the couch, throwing off Vellius' arm to stand with her arms crossed and her eyes narrowed into a thin line. "What would it matter, Vellius? We've already lost her! Whenever I try to connect with her it's almost as if I can see pain flash through her eyes! That is, before they return to the cold void that we've become accustomed to seeing. Be it in two, four, or twelve months it makes no difference! She won't accept our love after so long, especially after we sent her to that place. Whatever happened in there, Vellius, is our fault. We chose this life, not her. And now she's paying for it." Roselda was breathing hard at this point, but had started to calm down about halfway through her diatribe.

Vellius had just silently listened throughout her whole speech, his face dissolving into a hurt, saddened expression. Only in front of Roselda did Vellius ever make himself readable, even vulnerable. It was not Vellius' fault, Roselda soon realized. They had both signed up to serve the Dark Lord and had both committed their daughter to his service when they did. She resumed her place seated next to him and hid her head against his shoulder.

She barely made a sound as she mumbled, "What can we do?"

He seemed to contemplate it for a moment, and then replied softly, "We could…invite someone over that is her age, maybe even someone from the D.E.A.T.H. camp."

Roselda thought this over apprehensively. "How would that help? Wouldn't that just…remind her of whatever happened?"

"She obviously isn't coping with it as she is now, so don't you think that anything would be better than the way it is? Perhaps even the two could help each other, sympathize where we can't."

"I guess…so…but what about the rules? Severus may have overlooked everything else, but…"

"I will talk to Severus before we go any further. Do we know anyone who would be willing to let their child come over once or twice a week?" Vellius wondered, staring into his wife's deep blue eyes.

"I'm…not sure," she said, standing up. "I'll check our D.E. Warlocks & Witches book to see if a name pops out." Roselda picked up her wand and muttered, "Accio Warlocks&Witches book!" Immediately, a couple of books appeared before her. She picked up the slender black one with a curious, ornate flower inscribed in dark green on the front and immediately began to flip through it. The other rather larger, bright green book with Durmstrang inscribed on the front went back out of the room at a lazy wave of her wand.

Meanwhile, Vellius picked up the paper and pretended to begin reading again. Instead he was thinking on what his wife had said. Fatin couldn't possibly believe them when they write her that first week when she is at Hogwarts, asking her to believe that they had loved her the whole time. The Dark Lord had thoroughly trapped them in his plans.

"Ah! The Malfoys! Their son…Draco, right? I believe he was in D.E.A.T.H. camp." Roselda said, grabbing a piece of parchment.

"Yes, the Malfoys will be fine I suppose. Even though they are a slippery sort, they seem to care just as much about Draco as we do about Fatin so it should be alright. Ask them if Draco could come by three days a week, at least at first. They know that we're closer to the Dark Lord so they should want their son to be close to Fatin." Vellius said, slightly shaking his head at the thought of their greediness.

Roselda finished writing the letter and went to find their owl, tying the parcel to its leg with specific orders to get it to the Malfoys as quickly and safely as possible. The next day their owl returned with the Malfoy's reply, stating that their son Draco would come for his first visit the day after.

Fatin had spent the past six months thinking about her life and what lay ahead. Mostly she just walked about in a daze, not thinking about anything at all. Sometimes she would leave the house at night with a candle and walk down to the neighborhood park when Roselda and Vellius were asleep. Fatin avoided them, and recoiled when Roselda tried to connect with her. Whenever Roselda touched Fatin's hand she would think for a moment that it was Heather and her feelings from D.E.A.T.H camp would come flooding back. That is, until she realized where she was and why that wasn't possible.

Fatin got out of bed, wondering why she should even bother to eat breakfast that morning. She heard the doorbell ring, and slowly continued to get ready for the waste of another day, certain it was just Snape. Even seeing him wasn't worth anything anymore to Fatin. She could no longer be enchanted by his stories of the wonderful life at Hogwarts, even when she was going to be there in four months. Nevertheless, Snape had always been forward with Fatin about life and hadn't betrayed her yet, so she continued to sit with him for a couple of hours a week and drink some butterbeer. It seemed to make the time go faster for her, at least.

"Fatin!" Roselda yelled, with the sickeningly sweet voice that she had taken to using. Fatin kicked her armoire childishly, and felt a sharp pain in her big toe. "Bollocks!" she whispered angrily. Then she put on her slippers and walked down the hallway, through the kitchen and to the front door. There she saw Roselda and Vellius standing with a blonde couple, in between which stood Draco Malfoy.

"What is this?" Fatin asked angrily, surprising who she supposed were Draco's parents. They turned to give her a couple of slimy smiles. Draco didn't look at Fatin; he seemed to be resolutely pouting in the opposite direction.

"Fatin, the Malfoys have brought dear Draco here over to play. We thought it'd be a good idea for you two to get to know each other since you'd be going to Hogwarts together in September," said Fatin's mother, smiling sweetly at her. Roselda's excessive sweetness made Fatin feel sick to her stomach.

"Play?!" Fatin said quietly, glaring around at the motley group, "you want us to play together? Do you think we _played_ at D.E.A.T.H. camp? And what in the world would make you think I would want to play with _him_?" Draco was offended by this last question, but he looked Fatin in the eyes and nodded his approval. His parents, however, seemed shocked at Fatin's disrespect.

"I am certainly glad that you at least have an opinion on the subject, Fatin, but you will do well to remember that while you are living under my roof you shall follow my rules. Now take Draco here to the park while the parents discuss a few things." Vellius' tone of voice left no room for argument.

"Fine," Fatin dully replied, immediately walking to the door and wrenching it open. She didn't look around to see if Draco followed, but heard the door slam behind him. Soon he was matching Fatin's pace. Fatin and Draco were almost the same height, Draco being only slightly taller than Fatin was. The two walked in silence for a couple of blocks, Fatin staring dully ahead while Draco looked around the neighborhood disdainfully.

"You know, it's not like I'm happy about this either," he said quietly.

"Then why didn't you oppose your parents?" Fatin asked sharply.

"It's not like I didn't try, really, but they threatened to send me to Beauxbatons if I didn't come. Plus they've been really angry about the whole D.E.A.T.H. camp thing…" He trailed off, and Fatin imagined he was thinking about that horrible place. She remembered then that he had failed the test.

They had reached the park by then, so Fatin went and took a seat on the swing set, propelling herself back and forth in a controlled chaos of motion.

"Did you tell your parents about… what happened?" Fatin asked, unable to enumerate the events of that evening.

"I couldn't…you know? Of course it doesn't matter what happened there because my father assured me that he has the means to get me into the Death Eaters anyways." Draco had finished with one of his usual snide, snobby remarks that would usually annoy Fatin. Instead she focused on his first statement. He had obviously been through the same pain that she had, that much was clear to her. No matter how much his personality rubbed her the wrong way it was nice to finally know that someone else understood.

"I don't blame you for… failing." Fatin said, hesitating to delve too deeply into what she was saying. She swung higher to avoid his stare.

"But….I failed," He said, sitting on the swing but merely staring down at the pebbles on the ground. "I wasted the best chance I had to get a spot as a Death Eater."

"Hmmmm," Fatin mumbled, not certain of how to reply.

The two left the conversation there and spent the next couple of hours trying to see who could jump the farthest from the swing. Fatin even smiled despite herself when Draco got himself entangled in the swing. He had tried to keep himself from falling when he had jumped from too high up.

Fatin decided that perhaps these visits wouldn't be so bad, even though Draco's personality was tough to bear at best. When the sun started to go down she got nervous about it getting dark. So Fatin stood up from where she was examining hers and Draco's last jump marks and turned to him.

"Let's go, I bet our stupid parents are done discussing things by now."

Draco got up off his swing but sneered, saying, "Your parents may be stupid but my parents are top ministry officials so you should watch what you say."

_He's still an annoying git, no matter what_, Fatin thought. "Whatever you say, failure-face, let's just get going before it gets too dark."

"Who're you calling a failure-face? I'll let you know that my father will be hearing about this if you say another word like that." Fatin rolled her eyes, starting the long walk back to her house. "Why're you in such a rush, anyways? Scared of the dark are you?" his sneer grew as he thought through this.

Fatin slowly turned and looked the little imp right in the eyes. "No I am not. I'm just worried that a dementor might smell your bratty, happy self and come out. Understand?"

"A…a dementor? Well, I suppose you're right, our parents will be looking for us." He began to walk past Fatin, nonchalantly flipping his hand in the air. Fatin ran to catch up with him and then the two of them walked slowly back to her house.

When they finally made it back to Fatin's front door Malfoy's parents were waiting inside to take him home, so Fatin walked right back into the house, ignoring her parents and heading straight back into her room to continue waiting for school to start.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Bonjour! Thanks once again for reading! Any comments or concerns are appreciated and as you have probably already noticed, there are OCs in my story.**

**Here is my definition of "Trick" in terms of how it will be used throughout this story. In this case it would be a derogatory term used when addressing a person who one believes is full of it or just an unbelievably exasperating person in general. **

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Draco continued coming over to Fatin's house to play for the next couple of months but they didn't speak of D.E.A.T.H. camp again. The two usually went to the park and talked, as that was about all that they could do. Fatin's topic of choice was always about what life would be like when they joined the Death Eaters while Draco's was usually focused on Hogwarts and complaining about what a waste of pure wizard blood it was for him to be sent there.

Fatin quickly found out that Draco would become bad-tempered when things didn't go his way. He, who had always been spoiled by his parents, had never really been refused anything in life. So he would pout and threaten Fatin when he couldn't make an argument for himself, shuffling his feet about, crossing his arms, and glaring off in another direction. When Fatin, who had never been coddled or praised before, saw this behavior it infuriated her. The two were perhaps the closest match to oil and water as there could be so they always ended up butting heads with each other.

One night Fatin had a particularly horrible spat with Malfoy and had ended up calling him a cowardly weasel. She was walking to the front door around 11 o'clock at night to go to the park when she heard talking coming from her parent's bedroom. It was rather late for Vellius and Roselda Ignacious to be up, so she sneaked closer to their door, pressing her ear against the crack below the door.

"Of course it's going well, Roselda," Fatin heard her father say.

"Perhaps you're right. She still seems to be ignoring us but I think that Malfoy boy is having a good influence on her. Sometimes, I even hear her laughing with him," Roselda whispered, smiling to herself.

"Really, now? That is really good. You know, it's just an idea, but I was thinking about the two of them recently."

"Thinking what?"

"Well, even though the Malfoys aren't our favorite they are one of the more refined pure-blood families in town. It would be a shame to waste this connection between us. And the two children seem to get along well enough. Perhaps they'll grow to like each other even more," Vellius said.

"Vellius….You couldn't be suggesting an arranged marriage? What about Fatin, we couldn't ask any more of her," Roselda said, her tone sounding worried. Fatin was nodding silently from the other side of the door, wondering what kind of Confundus charm had been placed on her father.

"But dear, this is the happiest we've seen her. It would be the best thing for her, and it's not like we have to decide now. It's just a possibility for the future." My father said, and I heard shuffling and saw his feet shadow some of the light near my mother's feet. "It's the best thing we can do after introducing her into this life. Hopefully he could keep her safe-"

Fatin had heard enough, and stood up silently. As she walked to the front door she thought about what a ridiculous thing it was to suggest that Draco keep me safe. Him? Protect _her_? Fatin went through the door and quietly shut it, making only a little sound as it budged back into place. She lit her candle and started the same long walk to the park.

Fatin stared around at the black sky filled with stars as she walked, contemplating how to get out of her situation. If he wasn't so enamored with that Potter boy, and himself, Fatin was certain he could find a girlfriend at Hogwarts.

Fatin looked up from the sidewalk that she had been staring at blankly and realized that she had already made it to the park. She took her favorite spot on the swing set and mindlessly began to propel herself farther and farther.

While she was pulling her feet back to swing backwards, she felt something hard make contact with the back of her head. Fatin thrust her feet into the ground and came to a jarring halt, almost falling out of her seat. She turned her head in every direction while she imagined the worst. Her candle was fading and she couldn't see anyone, although she heard the bushes rustling nearby. Fatin turned to search on the ground for what had hit her, jerking now and then at a twig breaking or an owl hooting.

She found a rock lying on the ground close by, and when she picked it there was the word "trick" crudely written on the other side. _Is this a sick Muggle joke?_ Fatin thought, once again looking all around her and finding nothing. Trick-or-treat was what the Muggles said when they happened to ring the Ignacious' door on the day the Muggles call Halloween. Was someone calling Fatin a Muggle?

Fatin went trudging into the bushes, searching for whoever had thrown the rock she held tightly in her hand. Her candle was beginning to burn low and the bushes were thick, covering her in darkness. She was still terribly afraid of the dark, but she was determined to find the culprit.

She saw a flash of a blue sock in a pair of white tennis shoes disappear into the trees behind her, but then her candle went out.

Fatin couldn't see more than a couple of feet in front of her and was beginning to see sharp, beady eyes looking out at her hungrily from every edge of her vision. Every sound, every snapping of a twig shot through her spine, and she ran as fast as she could back to her house. When she got back to her room she put the rock on her dresser. Then Fatin sat on her bed and hugged her knees to her chest, her eyes frantically searching the room to make sure everything was as it should be.

Slowly, Fatin calmed down and went to sleep. When she woke up at eight a.m., her dresser had laid out her only pair of black shorts and an emerald green T-shirt. After Fatin finished getting dressed she put on her unworn black tennis shoes.

Fatin found her parents once again sitting at the kitchen dining table, with their hands folded and excitement written all over her mother's face. There was a piece of yellow parchment in between them.

Thinking of the D.E.A.T.H. letter, Fatin immediately ripped the paper off the table, anxiously unfolding it where it had returned to its resting state. Roselda and Vellius had already taken the pleasure of opening the letter for Fatin.

Fatin put some jelly on the toast that had fixed itself on the counter into neat little stacks. There were also eggs and bacon making themselves into neat little piles as well, but she didn't bother with them. It was strange for there to be anything but toast in the Ignacious house for breakfast. Fatin's heartbeat slowed down as she saw what it really was. She read the official emerald-green scroll carefully, just to make sure.

When she was certain that it was merely her acceptance letter to Hogwarts, Fatin looked up at her parents. She noticed an anxious, hopeful expression on her mother's face, although her father looked characteristically bored by the affair. Vellius was always good at keeping any sort of emotion from showing.

"Have you sent the acceptance letter?" Fatin asked quickly. She tried to eat her toast fast, taking abnormally larger bites than usual. She glanced outside, her eyes already searching for blue socks.

"Yes…but, actually, we had-I mean, I had," her mother corrected, seeing Fatin's father's almost imperceptible twitch when she mentioned that it was both of theirs idea, "thought that perhaps you would come with us to get your school necessities today. Of course, we need you for the fitting of your robes and to get your wand," she added quickly, changing to a calmer demeanor although her fingers remained nervously twitching.

Fatin hadn't thought about having to get her robes and wand. She had always thought that her parents would go and get her stuff for her.

"I'm busy today," Fatin said, showing no sign of any further explanation being necessary for them.

Her mother looked a little taken aback that she actually had something else to do, but Roselda forged on, looking more excited than she had before. "Then…perhaps on your birthday, we could go. It's only a couple of days away and I think you would enjoy Diagon Alley."

Hearing Roselda's suggestion, Fatin's father unfolded his hands and folded his arms across his chest, giving her mother a reproachful look. "Roselda…" he said.

To this, Roselda's somewhat pleasant expression turned sour, and it seemed as if a dragon was breathing fire from her eyes. "Don't '_Roselda_' me, Vellius! I've just about had enough of this! If I can't even take my _daughter_ out on her eleventh birthday because of that…that…" she trailed off, glancing in Fatin's direction.

Fatin became frustrated, wondering what had gotten into her parents, and what exactly Roselda meant by 'that'. But Roselda continued speaking after a moment, bypassing the situation, "It doesn't matter, I don't care anymore," she hissed softly but fiercely at Vellius. She then took a deep breath and turned to smile at Fatin.

"So what do you think, Fatin? Does that sound nice?"

Fatin was visibly confused by now, turning to look at each of her parent's faces one by one. Why were they acting so strange? The Ignacious family had never celebrated a birthday before besides perhaps getting a new Dark Arts book for the house.

"Then….that's fine. I _guess._"Fatin said, trying to hide her small amount of excitement from her parents. She had heard many stories from Draco about Diagon Alley. It sounded like a bright, bustling place which both excited and scared Fatin, who had never been farther than the park down the street from her house. As her mother had said, her birthday on July 11th was only two days away. Fatin would have to hurry to find the person in the blue socks.

Roselda and Vellius got up from their chairs and Fatin's mother switched back to the calm look that she'd always had. Vellius left the room, heading towards their bedroom without a word. Roselda stayed for a second longer and was staring curiously at Fatin.

"Well…I hope that you have fun with whatever you're doing today…" she said, and then she briskly followed Fatin's father to their room.

Fatin rolled her eyes behind her mother's back and then took the last bite of her toast, chewing it slowly. She then set off for the park to start her search. The sun beat down on her, the rays easily burning her pale skin. Since Fatin had lived in the dark all of her life she was still very sensitive to the heat and got tired easily.

It was about 11 a.m. by the time she reached the park. Fatin now only had eight hours until the sun went down, and would probably have to try every house in the neighborhood to find where that person lived. Fatin decided to start looking in the park's bushes for a clue. She held the offensive rock clenched in her hand. As Fatin reached the edge of the little stone-filled playground, she realized she wasn't alone.

There was another little girl her age sitting on the swing where Fatin usually sat, swinging slowly as if she was thoughtlessly passing the time. Her hair was a lighter brown than Fatin's and it was short, all of it reaching an inch below her chin. Her eyes were a swirl of grayish blue. She looked as if she could easily beat Fatin in a fighting match, although that wasn't saying much since Fatin was pretty much useless under the sun's bright rays. All of Fatin's power came from being able to use a wand viciously.

The girl was wearing a blue T-shirt with a bronze letters that said, "**_Ravenclaw_**" and white Muggle basketball shorts with two bronze stripes down the sides. Quite the tomboy, she seemed. Then Fatin spotted the blue socks and white tennis shoes.

"So it was you!" Fatin said angrily. She raised her arm that held the stone and pulled it back; using whatever strength she had to hurl it right at the girl.

The girl easily avoided the stone, swinging forward just in time as it flew behind her head. It seemed as if she was smirking condescendingly at Fatin's attempt.

"How dare you compare me to a _Muggle_?!" Fatin continued, her voice raising. She watched the "Ravenclaw" girl carefully as she looked for another stone to throw in her peripheral vision. When Fatin had finally spotted one and had gone to pick it up, the girl finally turned to look at Fatin, placing her feet hard on the ground to stop her swinging.

Fatin suddenly had a vision of Heather on the night she found out how Fatin had been brought up. The same look of disbelief and hatred was plain upon that girl's face.

"You are far worse than any Muggle I've ever known," the girl said quietly, glaring at Fatin with the same blue-gray eyes as Heather.

"_What?!_ You have no _idea_ what I've gone through to earn my place as a witch!" Fatin threw the rock she had found on the ground at the girl, and this time it passed so close to her face that her hair fluttered with the wind it created.

"Oh, of course not, Fatin," the girl spat out sarcastically. "Or do you prefer _trick_?"

Fatin paused, still scowling after her last attempt to hit the girl with a rock. She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at the girl.

"Who are you and how do you know my name?" Fatin asked.

The girl took a few seconds, just staring at Fatin while she waited. The girl's eyes seemed to be criticizing every pore of Fatin's being.

"My name is Sorilbran; I believe you knew my mother." Sorilbran said this softly, shifting her eyes to stare at the sky. Her frustration was visible through her furrowed brow and she blinked just a few more times than normal.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. You must be mistaken because I've never heard of you," Fatin said through gritted teeth, not even pausing to go over the mere twenty or so people she knew.

Sorilbran just continued to stare at the sky as she replied, but her voice had become biting and cold. "Of course you haven't, _trick._ She wouldn't have told you anything about me, anything about _her_ life. She wasn't _allowed_ to. Oh, but I've heard plenty about you and your _tragic_ life."

What? Fatin thought, starting to worry. Her anger drained out of her as a cold feeling of dread replaced it, and Fatin looked back at Sorilbran with hollow, closed-off eyes. It couldn't be.

"I've heard all about how you plan to be one of He Who Must Not Be Named's followers and how you show no mercy when you are asked to maim or murder. But when you found a mouse in your cell you ignored it, instead of killing it as any cold-blooded _Death Eater_ would. You even surreptitiously dropped bread crumbs from your meal on the ground for it, thinking that she wouldn't notice it. _She_ thought that you were not as awful as you claimed and hoped to be." Sorilbran turned around to face Fatin once more, her eyes burning with hatred. "I, however, do not agree."

"Heather…?" Fatin said, shocked; there were no more explanations to save Fatin from the realization that Sorilbran had to be Heather's daughter. No one else knew any of that, and Fatin didn't even know _Heather_ knew it. It was so obvious now. The girl had her eyes.

"No, Bellatrix," Sorilbran's tone went back to the biting sarcasm. "Of course Heather. Remember, the person you killed without a second thought?! The person who cared so much for you, took care of you. My _mother."_

"It wasn't like that!" Fatin said defensively. "She…She _betrayed _me. She would've killed me first; your mother was just a coward. She didn't care about me, she only pretended to. And you, you're the daughter of that filth!"

"Filth?! How DARE you?!" Sorilbran screamed, jumping up from her swing and balling up her fists. Fatin thought Sorilbran was going to try to hit her, but instead Sorilbran just stood there with her fists clenched. Fatin watched as her expression went from a furious, fiery expression to a muted, loathful one. Then Sorilbran turned sharply on her heel and walked five paces away from Fatin. She then proceeded to rub her temples with one hand while she pulled out a worn and tear-stained piece of paper with the other hand from her basketball shorts.

Fatin watched as Sorilbran looked at the paper as if she was actually reading it. But Fatin couldn't see anything on it. After Sorilbran finished looking at the parchment she folded it back up and put it back into her shorts pocket. She continued to rub her temples and closed her eyes, taking deep, slow breaths. Fatin frowned at her, wondering what in the world was going on.

When Sorilbran finally turned around and looked at Fatin, she still looked as if she loathed Fatin deeply, but even stronger than that was the calm determination that shone through her eyes. Fatin stepped back a couple of paces as Sorilbran walked over to her, ready to defend herself if she had to.

Sorilbran reached her hand into her other basketball shorts pocket this time, and pulled out a similar envelope to the parchment she had before. It was a little worn but there were no tear stains on this one, at least not on the outside as far as Fatin could see.

Sorilbran stopped a few feet away from Fatin and just dropped the envelope on the ground.

"I hardly feel that you deserve to read this, or even be alive for that matter. But it isn't my decision to make. See you tomorrow, _trick._" She said as she turned to walk off through the same bushes she had disappeared into the night before.

Fatin would've taken more offense at her last comment, and even questioned why it was necessary for her to ever see Sorilbran again if she hadn't been busy staring at the front of the letter Sorilbran had thrown on the ground. One word was scrawled in a deep black ink on the center of it in Heather's silly, curvy writing.

_Fatin_


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Bonjour tout le monde! I have officially started back into college, so the posting will not be as often. Je suis desolee, mes pauvres champignons. As the studying world has been thrust upon me, so Hogwarts is looming in the distance for Fatin. Thanks for the comments and bonne lecture!**

* * *

Fatin continued to stare at the spot where Sorilbran had disappeared into the bushes. Do I even want to open this letter? She thought, thinking about the last things Heather had to say about her. From the bits and pieces Fatin remembered Heather had made it obvious that she didn't want to have anything to do with Fatin.

Deciding that the park wasn't the proper place to open such a letter, Fatin walked slowly back to her house. The sun was just starting to descend its high place in the sky when Fatin got to her front door, holding the letter delicately in her hand as if it might explode if she held it too tightly. Roselda was humming happily to herself while she wrote down a list of some sort while Fatin's father was brooding over the Daily Prophet. Fatin passed them by in the kitchen without a word, moving quickly while successfully hiding the fact that she had a letter held in her hands.

When Fatin reached her bedroom she turned on her dark green snake lamp that sat on the ornate black nightstand next to her bed. She took a seat on the bed and held the letter up to the light, her hand shaking a little where it touched the aged paper. Fatin slowly ripped open the envelope, accidentally tearing the outside because of her shaking hands. She then pulled a single, thin piece of parchment from inside of it. The parchment was aged and worn like the envelope, with the same deep black ink forming words in Heather's writing. It said:

_My Dear Fatin,_

_ I hope this letter finds you well, and you are enjoying your life far more than you were at D.E.A.T.H. camp. By now I have died, whether or not you decided to kill me yourself. You are probably very hurt by the way I have to act during your final test, but I hope you will read this letter and listen carefully to what I have to tell you. First, I would like to tell you why I became your mother figure in the first place. You see, my family had been receiving death threats for weeks because of our actions to protect the Muggles from the Death Eaters. They broke into our house one evening, a couple of months before D.E.A.T.H. camp. They explained that either my husband or I would have to go be a parental figure at D.E.A.T.H. camp or all of us would be killed right then and there. Although my husband was very much against it, I offered myself to be taken to D.E.A.T.H. camp. I knew very well in that moment that I would not be able to make it out of there alive, but it was best for my husband to stay home, to take care of our daughter Sorilbran. I am very glad to have made that choice, even if it meant that I had to die, because I got to meet you. I really have cherished you like my own daughter, even though, at first, it was only because the Death Eaters threatened my family. Please don't take this to mean that I ever said anything that I didn't mean. At first it might have been that way, but soon I became attached to you, who are nothing like a Death Eater. You may be able to seem like one, but I truly believe that in you there is good. That is why I hate what I have to do in a couple of days. They (the Death Eaters) have given me my last task, and then my family will be free to live without worry. If not, they die. It tears my heart apart that I must seemingly betray you, and to say those awful things against your character. I so wish that after reading this letter you won't take any of it to heart, and know that I would not cast the killing curse unless I knew that it wouldn't harm you. It is all scripted from the time the duel starts in order to bring the most impact upon you students. Our use of the killing curse, as well as our violent reactions succeeding it is not of our own devices. All of those things I have to tell you are empty, useless words that I will be forced to say, to make you believe. I hope that you can forgive me for doing it as it is the only choice I can make. I also hope that you know that I do not blame you, in any way, if you decide to use the killing curse. In fact, that is what I hope you will do. There will be no point in me dying if you fail the test. This is the way for you to live the next few years of your life peacefully, and I would gladly give my life for that. And so, my dear Fatin, I must end this message quickly, seeing as I don't have much time until you get back from your lessons. Please do not close yourself off to everyone, including my daughter. My last wish for you is that you live happily, and disregard any and all of life's lackluster responsibilities. Go out and make choices which you may regret later in life! J I would so hope that would mean you would choose avoid living a lonely, cruel life as a Death Eater, but I understand that is but a far-fetched dream of mine. You should know, however, that my daughter shall always be there if you need her. She has plenty of crazy and misdirected decisions for the both of you. Lots of Love & Butterbeer,_

_ Heather Eldemere_

_ P.S. You are probably wondering how, in fact, I managed to send this letter. A tall Death Eater with greasy black hair and a long, garish nose named Severus Snape worked it out so that I could send a letter a week to my family, with only one condition that I send you this letter, explaining why I had to do what I did. He seems to care very much for you, if I do say so myself. You certainly have many more friends that you can trust than you realize, Fatin. And even in death we still won't leave you alone with your grouchy self._

And that was it, the last words Fatin would ever get to hear from Heather. Tears dripped slowly from her eyes on to the parchment as she read. The paper was soon covered with the round, wet spots that slightly smudged the ink. When Fatin finished reading it, she realized that she was messing up a letter that she couldn't ever replace. Fatin quickly wiped at her eyes but the tears wouldn't stop. She gingerly picked up the letter and placed it inside her night stand, her hand shaking so badly that she had a hard time opening the drawer.

Fatin saw in her mind the somewhat calm, accepting expression Heather had at the very end, when Fatin had to decide whether or not she could kill her. It had confused Fatin at the time, but it all made sense now. Heather had bravely put on such a face so that Fatin could pass the test, even when it meant that Heather would die.

Fatin spent the rest of the day rereading the letter and laying on her bed. She couldn't even be bothered to go get herself some dinner. She supposed at some point the doorbell rang because her mother's knocking on the door woke her from her daze.

"Fatin?" Roselda called, waiting for a reply. " Umm…Draco is here to play?" She said questioningly, as there had not been the reply she had expected.

"…I don't want to play today,"Fatin said, her voice cracking a little. As much as she thought Draco deserved to know the truth about their parental figures, Fatin also knew that she couldn't tell anyone what actually happened, for it would jeopardize both Heather's family and Snape.

Roselda Ignacious was pacing worriedly in front of her daughter's door. Is she alright? She wondered. She had heard Fatin crying earlier, and wanted desperately to go and hold her. It was a mother's right, she thought, thinking of the deal with the Dark Lord. She determinedly grasped the doorknob to Fatin's room, but after pausing for a few moments dropped her hand. It is not my right, she thought sadly, remembering the way Fatin had recoiled at every advance she had made to be motherly. Instead of being a nuisance to her daughter, she decided to go and do the only thing she could for her. Send the Malfoys on their way back home. She reached the foyer where they stood with their son, looking displeased to have been made to wait for so long.

"I'm very sorry, but she is unwell today. Tuesday, also, she will be going to Diagon Alley with Vellius and I." Roselda said it all apologetically, because she knew that the Malfoy boy made her daughter at least a little happy. Not because Roselda had in any way come to like the Malfoys. They always put on those slimy smiles and talked about Vellius and her putting in a good word with the Dark Lord when he returns. They were certainly not the best pick for her daughter's childhood friend, but it was the only one that worked with their special situation.

"Well, we do not have the time to be wasting while your daughter is unwell," Lucius Malfoy started off angrily, his nostrils flaring.

"But we shall forgive you this time, although our poor Draco will now have to stay at home alone since we made plans for the day." Narcissa Malfoy said this, frowning as if this was a great travesty.

"Mother…!" Draco whined, looking shocked at the thought and tugging on his mother's sleeve forcefully.

"Now, Draco, be quiet," his mother said, then whispered softly to him, "your nanny will be there."

"But I don't like her!" He said, glaring at his mother angrily.

What a whiny little git, Roselda thought. If I got my hands on him…but, no, must be pleasant. She forced a wide smile onto her face. "Well, it sure has been delightful to have you here, but I must attend to my garden." She didn't have a garden, of course. "Have a wonderful day and don't get too lonely Draco!" Little brat. With that, she left the room to find her husband.

Vellius was in their study, writing letters for his job at the Ministry. He wasn't allowed to tell anyone what exactly it was that he did up there, but Roselda knew that it involved the Dark Arts in some way or another. He was sitting at the desk so Roselda pulled up a chair beside him, and just watched him for a few moments. He looked tired, with bags under his eyes and worry lines easily formed across his brow those days. He must not have noticed her, or perhaps he had and he just didn't want to expend the energy to acknowledge her. They had been arguing a lot the past few days, mostly about Fatin.

Roselda wanted to forget the deal, and try to save whatever family they could still have while Vellius also wanted the same thing, but in a different way. He was worried, because even if it appeared the Dark Lord was not returning, he could still come back. And although he was willing to risk his life by forgetting the deal, it also meant risking his wife and his child's life as well. Vellius thought that Roselda was being far too careless. Although Severus had not yet responded to her indiscretion, every Death Eater knew about Snape's undying loyalty to the Dark Lord and his cunning ways. It was only a matter of time before he took away Fatin if they decided to go against the deal. Neither Vellius nor Roselda were willing to change their position on this matter, and so it had become a moot point. However, Roselda was going to try to reason with her husband at least one more time.

"Vellius…?" She said softly, trying to start the conversation off amiably. Their last conversation about going to Diagon Alley had left them both fuming. They hadn't spoken since then.

"What do you want, Roselda?" Vellius questioned sharply, not turning to look at his wife. He loved his wife very much, but at times she based her decisions too much off of emotions, instead of thinking about the consequences properly.

"I merely _wanted_," she replied, angry that he had responded that way, "to talk to you about when Fatin goes to Hogwarts."

"Oh, well then that's fine." He said, his tone changing to a more docile one.

"I had thought that, perhaps…" Roselda paused, thinking carefully through her next few words as she knew she was walking a very thin line. She rushed through everything she was thinking, so that Vellius wouldn't be able to say no right away. "Well, I had thought that we should let Fatin off the hook about the Potter boy. At least most of the way. I think it should just be a suggestion that she maybe say a few words to him every now and then. Because at Hogwarts she can't be taken away from us. That way she can also live for herself instead of for the Dark Lord. And, if, you know, he does come back it's not like she can't become better friends with the boy then, right? It's not really like we're ignoring the deal this way, but in a way it might make her a little happier. Don't you think so?"

Vellius considered his wife, and the excited, triumphant look upon her face. She had obviously thought this through, he thought, and started to chuckle a little. Her energy had always amazed him, and her determined spirit was the reason he married her. He thought it through carefully, and determined that in fact it was a good compromise. "Alright, Roselda, you shall get your way. But we HAVE to wait to tell her in our first letter to her while she is at Hogwarts. Do you hear me?" His wife had a very large, very triumphant grin upon her face.

"Of course dear, love you!" She said happily, giving Vellius a peck on the cheek. She then left to make dinner, humming as she waved her wand at the pots and pans, and they went forth to do their duties.

Fatin woke up the next morning feeling as if she hadn't slept at all. Her long, dark brown hair was a mess because she had neglected to put on the Anti-Tangles Potion before bed. She was still wearing the same clothes from the day before, and Heather's letter was lying on the bed next to her. It was probably where it had dropped when she had fallen asleep reading it. She had come to many conclusions the night before. One of them was that she did, in fact, owe Sorilbran an apology. Sorilbran was Heather's daughter, and Fatin knew then that she could trust her. Despite all of this, Fatin was still entirely too confused as to why Sorilbran was even talking to her. Why would Sorilbran be nice to Fatin, much less why wouldn't Sorilbran wish that Fatin was dead?

Secondly, Fatin had decided that perhaps Heather was right. Fatin did have more friends than she thought, especially in Snape. But even if Heather didn't betray her, Fatin had made herself way too vulnerable to a stranger that had not proven themself trustworthy. Heather could've easily betrayed Fatin. What had ended up happening seemed to Fatin as exactly what Snape had tried to warn her about. So becoming a Death Eater really was the only way for her to be happy, to protect those who Fatin cared about. At least, those who were left. Fatin was too weak to protect Heather back then, but she could become stronger. And she could start by going to Hogwarts and fulfilling the Dark Lord's wish that she become close to the Potter boy.

But first, I must see Sorilbran, Fatin thought, getting up off of her bed. She didn't even stop to change clothes, because she must've slept late. The sun was already high in the sky. Fatin tied her hair up into a bun and then left for the playground.

Sorilbran was waiting for her on her swing. Sorilbran looked much calmer today but her eyes were as red as Fatin expected hers were. Fatin sat down on the swing next to Sorilbran's and silently began to push herself back and forth. Sorilbran was swinging too, matching Fatin's pace lazily. Fatin had never had to apologize for anything before. In fact, apologizing was considered a sign of weakness to Fatin. But Fatin had been weak, and Sorilbran deserved an apology.

"I…guess that…I'm sorry. About…calling Heather filth…" Fatin said this all softly, pushing herself higher and higher on the swing.

"What was that? I can't hear you." Sorilbran said, and Fatin couldn't see her face because she was swinging on a different level then.

"I'm sorry. For everything." Fatin said, raising her voice as much as her pride would let her.

"Huh?! You need to speak up!" She said loudly.

"I am SORRY! OKAY?!" Fatin yelled, exasperated. She stopped her swing and stared at Sorilbran as she put her feet down to stop on the ground.

Sorilbran was grinning devilishly then, and Fatin realized angrily that Sorilbran had been able to hear her the entire time. "Good," she said, "I may not be able to forgive you, but that certainly helps."

Fatin paused, curiously looking at that overly blunt, sarcastic tomboy. "Why are you even trying to forgive me? I wouldn't if I were you." She said honestly.

"Well…" Sorilbran said, looking around as if she was searching for something to stare at. She decided on staring at a lightly shaded pink rock on the ground. "…It was my mother's last request, if you must know. Something about how I should stand by you no matter how much I may dislike you. I don't know why she wasted her last request on such a trick though."

"Really?" Fatin said, choosing to ignore Sorilbran's last comment. She suppressed the images of Heather that tried to appear before her, attempting to focus instead on Sorilbran. "So was that what you were reading last time?"

"Yeah, all the letters have a spell on them so that nobody else but the intended can see the writing on it. It's very useful that way."

"Oh…" Fatin said, trailing off awkwardly. She didn't really have much else to say even though she was very curious what exactly Heather had told Sorilbran about her.

There were a couple of minutes of awkward silence, and then Sorilbran started to talk again.

"So…not to be creepy or anything, but I was watching you for a couple of days before I um…threw the rock at you. Hope that doesn't smart too much. Well, maybe a little." She smiled with humor, such a strange kind of humor for the situation. Fatin smiled slightly in return, at least glad that Sorilbran was being truthful. "Anyways, one thing I couldn't understand. Why do you hang out with that trick?"

"Huh?" Fatin said, confused. Sorilbran was comparing someone else to a Muggle? "Are you talking about Malfoy?"

"No, that other person you hang out with." She said sarcastically. "Yeah, that little bugger. I mean, I know you've got no other friends really but that is sad."

"Well, he's better than staring at blank walls all day. And he's not _so_ bad sometimes." Sorilbran raised her eyebrows in an _Are you kidding me? _ way. "Yeah, it's really few and far between." Fatin said.

"If you mean like _never_ then I guess I'll accept that. But do you really intend to continue being friends with him at Hogwarts?" Sorilbran scoffed at the very idea.

"Well, my parents would want me to and there are some benefits since he is also part of a Death Eater family. Plus he would be my only ally at Hogwarts…if you can even call him that." Fatin said wearily, thinking of having to go through every day at Hogwarts with Malfoy.

"Well I know it doesn't really mean much to you, but we can always hang out when we get the chance. I don't find you _completely _intolerable." Sorilbran said lightly.

Fatin smiled at Sorilbran's sarcasm, which was becoming much more familiar as the time passed. She hoped that perhaps one day Sorilbran could forgive her…for what she had done. Fatin had a tiny inkling of fear in her gut that Sorilbran was just being nice because it was Heather's last wish. But it was also because of Heather that Fatin trusted Sorilbran, so Fatin decided that it shouldn't really make a difference.

"So…I see you've already decided what House you will be in?" Fatin asked nervously, knowing that her attempt to be nonchalant about it was futile. It would be a relief for Fatin if Sorilbran was also in Slytherin like Draco had told her that they would be in. But Sorilbran was wearing another blue and bronze Ravenclaw shirt again that day. Along with, of course, a pair of Muggle basketball shorts.

"Well, you know…I'm just so brilliant it's only natural that I go in Ravenclaw. But I'm sure we'll have some classes together." She added on, shrugging her shoulders in false modesty. Fatin couldn't keep herself from laughing at her, although her heart sunk just a little.

"Of course, it just makes so much sense." Fatin said, trying a little sarcasm out for herself.

"So I suspect you have your heart set on Slytherin? I mean, my mother…" Sorilbran paused, her expression slightly darkening. She cleared her throat a little, and then continued. "Well, she told me about your special situation but I was _hoping_ as I'm sure she was, that you might change your ways after you read that letter. Of course, I couldn't read it, although I won't lie and say I didn't try. But I couldn't even read your name, and then I had to work hard to reseal the thing so that you couldn't see that I'd opened it." Sorilbran smiled, her eyes daring Fatin to reproach her for her actions.

She had plenty of reason to, Fatin thought, and just chuckled in response. Sorilbran seemed surprised by her acceptance. "I think you had every right to do that," Fatin said, starting to feel a little depressed again, "If I were you I wouldn't have even given it to me."

"Well, that's what makes me a Ravenclaw and you a Slytherin. I would regret only following my emotions. If I think it through with a clear mind I would come to the conclusion that it would not be right to completely blame you. That is not what my mother would've wanted, and trying to kill you or whatnot for revenge would not make her happy. But I am still merely a child, so don't believe even for a second that you can get by without giving me many gifts as an apology." Sorilbran said jokingly, but Fatin could see some truth in the fact that she wasn't forgiven for what she had done. Fatin was quite shocked by Sorilbran's level head, because Fatin had thought that Sorilbran was just a sassy tomboy.

"I will somehow make it up to you… But part of that will come from not changing my ways. I have to follow through with becoming a Death Eater, for it would waste Heather's sacrifice if I didn't." Fatin said this firmly, honestly. She didn't have to hide anything from Sorilbran.

"What? I think you've somehow gotten the wrong idea and I don't think she'd see it that way either…but there's still plenty of time to decide before _that_ happens right?"

"Well, I'm supposed to get my Dark Mark after I graduate Hogwarts…"

"Alright, then there's plenty of time to change your mind!" Sorilbran said this cheerfully, reminding Fatin of Heather and her silly fantasies about her having a normal life. Fatin didn't respond, for it had only depressed Heather when Fatin had refused her absurd notions. Fatin was convinced that the future wouldn't change, no matter what Heather or Sorilbran thought.

Fatin started to swing again, and after a few moments Heather and she began to talk about the different houses in Hogwarts and the things that they would be learning.

When the sun started to go down Fatin was sad to leave the park, and surprisingly Sorilbran was even a little reluctant. Although it could have been because she was trying to fulfill Heather's last wish, Fatin thought sadly. Sorilbran walked Fatin back to her house after Fatin said she wanted to go home.

"Why don't you want to stay a little longer? My father isn't worried about me getting home, at least not after…what happened."

"I would, but…" Fatin paused, thinking about what Snape had said about her fear of darkness. Fatin shouldn't tell anyone, but even Snape knew Heather. She could trust Sorilbran with this, hopefully, Fatin thought anxiously. "I'm…scared of the dark…"

"Oh, that's right. I forgot, sorry." Sorilbran said, looking at Fatin worriedly.

"So…She told you?" Fatin didn't know that Heather had noticed even though Fatin had tried to hide it. But Heather was much more perceptive than Fatin had thought she was.

"Yeah…but it's alright, I'd even make an Unbreakable Vow not to tell anyone, that's how much my mother's last request means to me. Not that anyone would want to go against you anyways." Sorilbran said this seriously, and Fatin was very grateful that Heather had even left her such a person. As if I even deserve it, Fatin thought sadly.

They had reached Fatin's house, and Fatin turned to say goodbye. Sorilbran seemed to be torn, confused. But she collected herself when she saw Fatin looking at her.

"So I'll see you tomorrow?" Sorilbran asked, almost hopefully.

"Um…well, actually I'm going to Diagon Alley tomorrow. You know, for school stuff?"

"Oh, alright, I'll see you the day after then!"

Fatin was surprised to be so excited that she had made a friend, but her conditioned response to act normally overwhelmed that feeling.

"That's fine, I guess." Fatin smiled just a little as she waved goodbye to Sorilbran, and then went inside. She kind of worried about Sorilbran being alone in the dark walking home, but Sorilbran seemed perfectly fine with it. Fatin thought about the night Sorilbran had thrown that rock at her head. Yep, she's fine, Fatin thought. She then went upstairs and fell asleep quickly, and for the first time since Heather's death she did not have even one nightmare. Instead Fatin had dreams of bright lights and moving staircases.


End file.
